


This is [orphanage au fic]

by mikaceous



Category: The Lorax (2012)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-17
Updated: 2015-01-17
Packaged: 2018-03-07 21:30:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3183857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikaceous/pseuds/mikaceous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story written for my ask bloge family at tumblr dot com (:</p>
            </blockquote>





	This is [orphanage au fic]

This is a story about Tumb.

This is a story about how he came into chem class on the first day of senior year expecting to be taught by his old teacher, only to see an old man with a scraggly beard and twinkling eyes at the front of the class, announcing, “Mrs. Riley isn’t able to be here today, due to some difficulties with her pregnancy. I will be teaching you until she can return, or until they find a substitute more qualified for the job than me.” And then he laughs. He has a big, warm laugh.

(In his mind, Tumb is already thinking of him as a real-world equivalent as Albus Dumbledore. He’s even got those dumb half-moon glasses.)

And Dr. Bicklebaum proves himself to be a great teacher - on the first day he makes them all tea that he heated up from placing a kettle over a bunsen burner, and they sit in a circle and laugh and share stories.

Tumb doesn’t say anything. But he smiles, and that’s enough for now.

This is a story about how Tumb approaches his teacher two weeks into first semester and says, “Dr. Bicklebaum, sir, I’m having trouble understanding how to write these chemical equations. Do you think you could explain it to me again?”

“Only if you promise not to call me sir,” says Dr. Bicklebaum, and Tumb promises, maybe suspiciously fast and maybe not, but his teacher is smart and knows when to prod and when to not. So he tells Tumb to pull up a chair and they can go over those formulas togethers, how does that sound?

This is a story of how Dr. Bicklebaum sits Tumb down one day, and instead of pulling out another review sheet like he had been doing for the last three weeks, hands him a sheet of paper, turned over.

“This is your latest test grade,” he says. “I want you to look at tell me what you think of your grade.”

Tumb looks, grinning sheepishly up at him. “I got a hundred.”

“Yes. So that brings up the question, why are you here?”

“With all due respect, sir, you helped me to get that hundred. Sir.”

“I highly doubt that, with your bright mind, but even if it was true, why are you still here? You surely don’t still need help?”

Tumb pales and looks down and mutters some incoherent excuses but it doesn’t take long for Dr. Bicklebaum to weasel the truth out of him: he’s staying here after school on the pretense of getting extra help, so he doesn’t have to go home and deal with his family.

Dr. Bicklebaum nods knowingly and says that Tumb just had to say so, and he’s welcome to stay here as long as he likes - well, until he has to go pick up his children at school. But he’s welcome to stay here until then, no extra help sessions required.

A few months later, on a cold December night, Dr. Bicklebaum is driving home from the grocery store when he sees a familiar figure on the side of the street. He pulls over and motions for Tumb to come over.

He does, hesitantly, and sits in the back seat, smushed between piles of groceries (“I have a lot of mouths to feed at home,” explains Dr. Bicklebaum in an apologetic tone) and trying not to disturb anything that looks like it shouldn’t be - which is to say, anything and everything.

“You don’t need to drive me home,” he says. “My house is very out of the way.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

So Tumb tells him his address, and he’s right, he’s all the way past the other side of town, practically in the middle of nowhere. But Dr. Bicklebaum insists that it’s not a problem at all, and he’ll gladly take him there, it’s not a bother, don’t even try and pay me, young man, I am your _teacher_ , not a taxi cab service!

Before Tumb leaves, Dr. Bicklebaum gives him his phone number. “If you’re ever in trouble,” he says, “Call me. I don’t care if it’s three in the morning on Christmas day. Call me and I’ll come.”

Tumb says okay, sure, of course you will, and goes inside. That night, he almost deletes the contact from his phone. Almost. But he can’t bring himself to do it.

It’s several weeks before Dr. Bicklebaum finally gets the call. It’s almost two in the morning, but he picks up, just like he promised he would.

“Is now a bad time? I just- I needed somewhere to be, someone to talk to, and-”

“I’ll be right there. Where are you?”

“In front of the school.”

True to his word, Dr. Bicklebaum drives out there to pick him up. The entire drive back, he lectures him on the dangers of walking around outside by yourself, in the middle of a snowstorm, for christ’s sake! You’re going to get sick if you keep this up!

He drives Tumb-ler back to his own house, despite the kid’s intentions that he just wants a ride back home, you don’t have to do this, it’s okay, really. “You called me,” says Dr. Bicklebaum. “So I’m deciding where to take you, and I’m taking you to my home. And that’s that.”

He’s out almost as soon as his head hits the couch. Dr. Bicklebaum stays up for a long time, watching him.

The next morning, he catches the kid trying to sneak out, and that just doesn’t fly with him. Sit down, he tells him, and join us for breakfast. You woke me up in the middle of the night, the least you can do is eat with us.

And he gets introduced to the whole family, and he learns how Dr. Bicklebaum and his wife, Gretchen, work together with a few others to rescue abused kids out of their homes and gives them a safe place to live.

This is a story of how Tumb grew to know each of those family members over that weekend, and how on Monday, when school is over, Dr. Bicklebaum asks where he’s going.

“Well- home, Dr. Bicklebaum, sir.”

“I thought I told you to cut out that ‘sir’ crap. Why don’t you come over to my house for dinner?”

Tumb, well, he’s so shocked by his teacher’s bluntness that he accepts. And he ends up staying the night. And the next night, too. And the night after that. Soon it’s been one week, then two, then a month, and soon it feels like Tumb has always been a part of the Bicklebaum household, and it feels empty when he’s not around.

And that’s why Ghost corners him when he finds him packing up the meager supply of hand-me-down clothes he and Gretchen had given him. “What do you think you’re doing, Tumb-ler?”

“Getting ready to leave, Dr. Bicklebaum.”

“And why is that?”

“Mrs. Riley is coming back tomorrow. I had assumed that-”

“Well, you assumed wrong.” Dr. Bicklebaum’s face changes, and he beams at the kid. “Tumb-ler, how would you feel about moving into our little household, permanently?”

“Well, I-” Tumb smiles himself, and it’s shaky and uncertain, but Dr. Bicklebaum swears it’s the most genuine smile he’s seen the boy give since he met him. “I’d love to.”

So Tumb makes the transition of calling Dr. Bicklebaum Ghost, and Gretchen takes him out clothes shopping and the kids - well, they treated him like he was their birth brother.

Beth seems to naturally gravitate to him from the start. He finds that he truly enjoys acting like her older brother. He helps her with her math homework, and it’s not long before she finds out how awful his English grades are and helps him with his. More than once, Ghost has found them conked out in one or the other’s room, too tired to even move back to their own beds after doing their work.

Ariel, Flynn, and the twins are all significantly younger than either Tumb or Beth. He’s often roped into babysitting duty, though he tries not to get in their way too much. He exudes a certain kind of uncomfortableness around anyone under the age of ten.

Moirin, Ariel’s biological mother and Ghost’s college sweetheart, is often in and out of the house herself. She tries to teach Tumb how to bake, in hopes that at least one of the Bickelbaum children have a knack at it, but after he nearly sets the house on fire from forgetting to take the muffins out of the oven, he gets demoted to taste-tester and is forbidden from coming within ten feet of the oven for a week.

There were only two members of the extensive Bicklebaum family that no one ever thought to tell Tumb about: the college kids. He hadn’t heard of them until he learned that they were coming home for break.

Ami treats him like one of her own the first time they meet, makes him feel like he wasn’t ever not a part of their little family.

Eternal takes one look at him and groans. “What the hell, gramps, you picked up another one? _Again_?”

But he’s all grins and smiles and when he hugs, well, he doesn’t half-ass it, and Tumb takes a liking to him immediately.

Tumb’s shy though, so outrageously shy, and he doesn’t know how to approach him without coming off as odd. Beth has to chase him out into the garden the lock the door behind him to get them to talk.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Eternal is weeding the garden. He doesn’t look very interested in having a conversation.

Tumb kneels down in the grass, watching him for a few minutes. “Can I help?”

Eternal looks genuinely shocked. “You really want to help? No one ever helps? That’s why this garden looks like shit. I pretty it all up over break, and then I go back to school and it grows wild again.”

Tumb takes a deep breath. “Teach me, and I’ll take care of it while you’re gone.”

So Eternal does. And so does Tumb.

The next time Ghost has to go see Eternal, Tumb offers to go with him. He carefully uproots one of the plants in the yard and puts in a pot to show Eternal.

He’s delighted when Tumb gives him the plant. “He didn’t die!” he ruffles Tumb’s hair affectionately. “Looks like you’ve got a bit of a green thumb yourself, kid.”

Tumb almost tells him that most of the actual planting work was done by Beth or Gretchen. He has no delicacy around the plants. He sticks to weeding. But he doesn’t say anything, because he likes the way Eternal’s voice sounds when he’s praising him, and besides, he’s the one who brought him the dumb plant, isn’t he? So he deserves that praise.

This is the story of how, late that night, Tumb gets a friend request on FaceBook from Eternal. This is the story of how they quickly started talking, and soon had exchanged phone numbers and talked almost every day. Eternal knows things about Ghost that Tumb has never even thought to ask about. He’s a fount of knowledge.

This is the story of how Eternal gets a text one night at two in the morning: [can we talk?]

[shoot] he says.

[no i mean in person]

[how are you going to do that?] says Eternal. [I cant drive, and there isnt any public transportation at this hour]

[im already here. im coming up]

Eternal shrugs and tells him to come right in, the door’s unlocked.

He doesn’t expect Tumb to burst in, eyes red and swollen, and fling himself into his arms.

“What-?”

“I- I’m sorry, I just needed somewhere to be, and- oh god, it’s so bad, I’m such a fucktard, I didn’t mean to-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, back up, kid,” Eternal tries to grab Tumb’s wrists to hold him still, but he flinches and pulls his hands back. “What’s wrong?”

“I… I freaked out,” he murmured. “I relapsed, and I…” he pulls his sleeve back to show him the freshly made cuts running across his arm, blood oozing out of them viscously. “I’m sorry.”

Eternal doesn’t even ask. There are a hundred thousand questions threatening to bubble out of his throat but he forces them down, beats them back. He takes Tumb to the bathroom and cleans him up, bandages up his arms so the bleeding can’t soak through and stain everything.

“How did you get here?” he asks at last, when everything is finished and Tumb is sitting on the edge of the tub, staring numbly at his feet.

“Drove,” he says simply.

Eternal whistles and leans back against the counter. “With those cuts? If you got blood on the seats, gramps is gonna be-”

“I wore long sleeves for a reason,” snaps Tumb, and then his eyes go wide and he turns three shades paler. Yelling has never gotten him anywhere.

Eternal stares him down for a long while. The silence stretches around them, almost suffocating them, enveloping them in its thick folds. Then he punches through the barrier and smiles, holding his hand out. “C’mon, let’s get you to bed, kid. You can stay here tonight.”

Tumb nods, not saying anything, and he grabs Eternal’s hand, and he’s not sure who started it or how it happened but suddenly they’re kissing, their lips pressed against each other, and he’s closing his eyes and leaning into it because this is different than other kisses he’s had before; it’s soft and delicate and it isn’t prying and it’s practiced, and he knows that Eternal knows what he’s doing.

But when they pull away, he starts to shake and turns even paler than he was before, and he tries to tug himself out of Eternal’s embrace but he’s got too strong a hold on him and he’s stuck. But instead of looking angry, or upset, Eternal looks warm and welcoming if not the slightest bit dazed, and he tells Tumb it’s okay, it’s okay, it doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to, neither of us are in the right place emotionally tonight, and let’s get you to sleep, huh?

Tumb doesn’t want to let go of him, keeps latching onto him like a crutch, and so Eternal curls up next to him on the bed and and watches over him as his panicked, tense breathing slows and deepens, and his face relaxes as he slips into sleep.

Eternal slides out of bed and sneaks into the other room, calling up a number on his phone. “Hey, gramps. Yes, it’s me. Yes, I am aware of what time it is, thank you very much for telling me. I love you, too. Listen, I have Tumb - you didn’t know he was missing? Shame on you - I have him here, he took your car and got to my place, somehow, and now he’s sleeping. He’s fine. No, I’m not going to make him drive home at this hour! He had a rough night. No, I won’t tell you what happened, it’s personal and it’s not my place to tell. Come by in the morning. I’ll take care of him tonight.”

Morning comes and Tumb wakes up refreshed, if not a bit dazed. And then he rolls over and sees where he is, and he sees Eternal passed out on the floor, and all of the events come rushing back, and all of the guilt and all of the fear.

Eternal catches him when he tries to sneak out the door, tells him to sit his sorry ass down, it’s hardly even eight and you still have an hour before mom and dad come to pick you up.

Tumb nods. He doesn’t say a word for the entire morning.

Then Gretchen and Ghost are there, and they keep sharing meaningful looks at each other as they look at Tumb, and he just feels even worse and wishes a hole would open up in the floor and swallow him.

(Eternal rubs his shoulder before he leaves and tells him that if he ever needs somewhere to be, he’s welcome to come over at any time. Ghost smacks him on the back of the head. “He’s welcome to come to me and Gretch any time! The boy is not supposed to be driving all over the state at two in the morning!” Still, the offer stands.)

Ghost takes his car home, and so Tumb and Webby get in the other car and begin the long, uncomfortable drive home in silence.

She keeps casting looks at him. He stares out the window, unsure of what to say.

Gretchen is the first to break the silence. “What did you think you were _doing_?”

He swallows. “I didn’t. I panicked, and I contacted the first person I could think of.”

“And you didn’t think to tell your father or I, who not only live in the same house as you, but are much more qualified to deal with your injuries than Eternal! And I can’t believe you drove all the way out there in a stolen car in that condition - it’s going to reek of blood for weeks - what were you doing?”

With each word, Tumb shrinks farther and farther into his seat. He shrugs.

She sighs. “Look, Tumb-ler, it may feel like we’re overreacting to you. But we just want you to be safe. And protected, and loved. But when you drive off like that, it makes it harder for us to protect you and keep you safe.”

Tumb bites back the retort that it makes him harder to love, too. “You didn’t even know that I was gone.”

“Only because your brother called us and told us where you were!”

Hearing Eternal referred to as his brother makes him feel even worse about the kiss. He clams up and refuses to say anything else for the rest of the ride home.

He doesn’t go to school that day. Eternal texts him that night, but he doesn’t respond. He doesn’t know what to think, how to think.

Some awful twist of fate makes him find Eternal’s room when he’s aimlessly wandering the house one weekend. The door is kept shut at all times, and he barely even noticed it before now. But now he creaks it open and slides in, breathing in the heavy smell of oregano that permeates the room. There are potted plants everywhere - most of them dead by now, except for a few measly cacti that strain to grow upwards in the meager sunlight they get in front of the window.

There are instructions attached to eat plant listing how often to water them. It looks like mom has been shirking on her watering duties.

Listlessly, he opens his closest, pulling out a shirt at random and bringing it to his face. It still smells like him. He runs his hand over the cool flannel, then balls it up and sneaks back out of the room and back to his own.

That night, he holds the shirt close to him while he sleeps. The smell calms him.

A few texts quickly clear the air between them and soon they start to spend even more time together. Either Tumb will take the car - with permission from Ghost, now - and go visit Eternal in his dorm, or he’ll come over for dinner, and they’ll go up to one of their rooms afterwards and talk.

It isn't long before Tumb starts spending the night. He pleads that the house gets too crowded and he needs a space to breathe in, but in truth he's fighting a losing battle with Eternal.

Usually when he spends the night, he’ll crash on the floor. Sometimes Eternal will come down with him, so they can be on the same level. But one night he brings out a few bottles of beer with a wink and a nod, and everything is a blur until Tumb wakes up the next morning and finds Eternal’s bright blue eyes staring right back at him, wrapped up around him under the covers.

“No, don’t go,” he says, when Eternal tries to get up. “You’re warm. Comfy. I like it.” He presses himself up against his body, soaking in his body heat, relishing at the feeling of making himself completely vulnerable to someone else and not being frightened of the consequences.

Things are good like this. There aren’t any labels, they don’t put words to what they have. It just exists, it simply is, and they prefer it both that way.

Sleeping together quickly becomes a customary thing, with or without alcohol. And when, one morning, Tumb wakes up to find Eternal trying to apologize profusely for a bruise he had left on his neck, he only smiles and reaches out to gently touch a hickey on his collarbone.

(Beth finds the bruise that night, much to his chagrin, and he tells her what’s going on and makes her swear to secrecy. But the next day he keeps seeing Ami, home for the weekend, making knowing glances in his direction. Still, knowing someone else knows makes it feel like more of a secret, somehow. Better.)

One night Eternal brings out the beer again, and once again they drink too much. The night is a blur, full of jokes and laughter and innocent touches that don’t mean anything.

Until, curled up together in a drunken heap under the blankets, Eternal presses his forehead against Tumb’s. ”I love you.”

Tumb’s blood runs cold. He asks Eternal what he means, but he’s already asleep.

This time,when he tries to sneak out in the middle of the night, no one stops him.

He doesn’t talk to Eternal for weeks. With those three simple words, he’s been forced to reconsider everything he knows, everything he thought they had. He’s scared of what he sees.

Ghost tries to ask him what’s wrong, but he refuses to answer. He won’t look at Eternal when he comes over for dinner, and once he’s excused he goes straight to his room and locks the door behind him.

Eternal offers no insight, either.

But he thinks he’s beginning to get an inkling of what might have happened.

One night, after several sleepless hours of tossing and turning, Ghost gets out of bed and goes down to the kitchen to make himself some tea. It’s not until he’s about to take it up to his study to do some reading that he notices Tumb standing outside, looking up at the sky.

He steps quietly outside, treading carefully, as if Tumb is a wild animal that runs away when startled.

“It’s late, you know,” says Ghost. “You should be in bed. The sun won’t rise any faster because you wish it to.”

Tumb shrugs and says nothing.

Ghost respects his wish to be silent, and they stand there in a companionable silence, watching the stars twinkle in and out of existence overhead. The night air is cool, but not chillingly so, and the faint smell of summer approaching is not far off in the distance.

“I think I understand you now,” says Ghost.

At first, Tumb doesn’t respond. Ghost isn’t sure if he heard or not. “You said you understood me before.”

“Well, I was wrong.”

Tumb grunts. “So tell me what you understand, then. Because right now, I don’t understand anything at all.”

“It’s simple, really,” says Ghost, trying to be gentle, “I didn’t understand at first, because I assumed you would be like my other children, so desperate to be loved that you would latch on to the first thing that seems to reciprocate it. But I see now that this is not the case.”

“And?”

“It’s quite the opposite, really, you’re scared of it. You were scared to move into this new house, where everyone cares so obviously about one another. And once you felt like you were becoming a part of it, you were scared of that, too. You were scared of the things you were feeling, scared of the feelings your mother and I showed you. So when you got hurt, you didn’t want to turn to us because you didn’t know if you could trust us. So you went to Eternal.”

Tumb says nothing to either confirm or deny. Ghost decides to take that as a sign to continue. “And, well, you turned to Eternal again. And again. And… something happened between you two. Something bloomed, I think. But then it wilted. Something else happened, and it made you realize that you were scared of the feelings he has for you, too. And now you’re out here, hoping and praying that the stars will spell out the answer for you.”

Still nothing.

“I know you didn’t ask for my help,” says Ghost. “But if I were you, I’d talk to Eternal. Those weeks when you were friends were good for you. You both benefit from being friends with each other.” He longs to add, your mother and I will love you longer and harder than he ever will. But he refrains; now is not the time.

(It’s a good thing he didn’t say it, because he has no clue how wrong he is.)

He claps Tumb on the shoulder, pretending not to notice when he sees the kid jump. “I’ll leave you to your pondering. Goodnight, son.”

He goes back to his bed, where he falls into a fitful sleep. When he comes downstairs in the morning, the car is gone. He tries not to worry about it.

Tumb comes back later that day, his expression carefully neutral. But Ghost doesn’t mistake the beginnings of a smile in the twinkle of his eyes.

Over the next few days, things seem to look up. Tumb walks around with a lighter step, like a dark cloud that had been weighing him down is finally gone. The entire house feels cheerier, somehow. More open.

The next time Eternal comes over for dinner, Tumb cautiously sits next to him. Eternal grins that big goofy grin of his and ruffles his hair. Ghost smiles and nods to himself. Seeing them friendly again makes the planets align properly.

That is, until they announce over desert that they’re “going official.” Ghost doesn’t understand at first. But then he catches the way Eternal beams when he looks at Tumb, and how Tumb refuses to make eye contact with anyone and stares distractedly at their hands interlocking on top of the table.

(In the background, Ami hands Beth ten dollars.)

Something clicks.

To say Ghost was unpleased would be an understatement. It takes almost an hour of arguing heatedly with Gretchen in heated undertones in the kitchen for him to calm down enough to congratulate them on finding happiness in one another, albeit forcibly.

The rest of the night is extremely awkward.

The next several days are not entirely pleasant, either. At first, Tumb spends them over at Eternal’s, until Gretchen calls him and asks him to come back (or so he’s told, but he suspects Beth played a big part in bringing him back).

Late night finds them alone and together again, having both come down to the kitchen for something to soothe their nerves (ice cream for Tumb-ler, tea for Ghost). They try not to look too hard at each other.

“Look, Tumb,” says Ghost. He trips on his words, swallows, and tries again. “Son, I know you’re just trying to do what makes you happy. And I, as your caretaker, fully endorse that. I was just caught off guard when you announced that you were dating a man I consider your sibling! Your _brother_ , no less!”

“I think saying you were ‘caught off guard’ is an understatement, considering you yelled so hard you spit all over everyone’s food and practically flipped the table over in your rage,” mutters Tumb.

Ghost’s first instinct is to retort, to get angry that his own son would speak back at him, but somehow he finds himself fighting back a laugh instead. “You may have a point, there. But what I’m trying to say is that I love you, no matter what happens, or what choices you make in life. I will be there for you.”

This is a story about Tumb.

This is a story about how Tumb looks at Ghost, really looks at him, for the first time in a week. This is a story of how he sees, behind the grisly beard and unkempt hair, a man who deeply and truly cares for his wellbeing and happiness.

And this is a story of how he flings his arms around Ghost, crushing him in a bone-breaking hug.

And this is a story of how he says, for the first time:

“I love you too, dad. I love you, too.”


End file.
